


For the Rest of Our Lives

by FindMeAfterward



Series: A Few Hours [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, But hopefully not groan-inducingly so, Cheesy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cutesy, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Morning Cuddles, POV Draco Malfoy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Relationship Discussions, Romance, Sappy, Sleepy Cuddles, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FindMeAfterward/pseuds/FindMeAfterward
Summary: The morning after. :) Draco and Harry spent the previous evening talking over beer and tea, and they wound up falling just a little bit in love… and falling asleep together. What happens when they wake up?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: A Few Hours [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171772
Comments: 37
Kudos: 147





	For the Rest of Our Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is a sequel! :) It’s just more fluff, y’all. With some smut. And then even more fluff. And a little bit of romance, some conversation, and a hefty dose of cuddles. But if you’re feeling like you need some Drarry cheese in your life, then grab some crackers and dive in! 
> 
> (Also please consider giving part one a read first, if you haven’t yet. No pressure! It’ll just give you the back story about how these two crazy kids ended up in bed together lol. Also it has just ever-so-slightly more meat to it, haha.) 
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy this fluffy, snuggly, smutty, cheesy romance. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. :)

Draco kept his eyes closed as the sunlight slowly crept through the sheer white curtains in his bedroom. He had always loved the spring and summer months, when the morning would arrive early and then take its time greeting him through the east-facing window of his cottage. Somehow the days always felt easier to tackle knowing he had woken up along with the sun instead of being rudely roused by his alarm. 

On this June morning in particular, Draco woke smiling, thinking those abstract thoughts that only appear in the other-worldy space between wake and sleep. This time, Draco’s mind was full of vague sensations: something green, something warm, something like a laugh. Despite feeling oddly content, he also felt inexplicably groggy, almost as if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before…

The night before. 

Draco’s eyes flew open at once, and he was instantly blinded by a sliver of brilliant sunlight just beginning to peek over the hill some distance away. Everything came flying back into his mind in one great whoosh, flashes of the previous night playing against his eyelids like scenes in a movie.

_ Harry. _

Harry was the star of every scene. 

The images came at him in a thrilling supercut: butterbeer, tea, Newcastle. A heartbreaking song about the world turning black. The smell of fresh cologne. A warm body next to him, in so many ways. So much  _ touching _ . The same handsome face behind those round glasses. Harry’s face. Harry’s wonderful, familiar, perfect face. 

Draco tried to settle his heartbeat and get his bearings. He was in his bedroom… but he hadn’t fallen asleep in his bedroom. He distinctly remembered, as a matter of fact, falling asleep on Harry’s muscular, Weird Sisters t-shirt-clad chest, the fireplace still crackling and the radio playing something Draco hadn’t been conscious enough to make a mental note of. Why, then, was he waking up here in his bed, when he should be in his sitting room, lying on top of Harry Potter?

Draco resisted the urge to turn around and face the very real possibility that, if he hadn’t dreamed the whole night entirely, Harry had already left. He wasn’t sure he could bear the idea. He held his breath and listened closely for a hint that he wasn’t alone.

And there it was. He heard it immediately, now that he was consciously looking for it: the heavenly sound of Harry snoring softly behind him. It made Draco want to weep.

No, of course Harry wouldn’t have left after saying that he would stay. Harry didn’t break promises in the way that Draco was used to people in his life breaking promises. Harry was different. And Harry was his.

Reality was still seeping in in bits and pieces like the sunlight streaming through the window. Draco’s smile grew, a warmth spreading up through his belly as he realized, in this instance at least, that he quite preferred reality to dreams. He counted to five and breathed deeply to the beat of Harry’s snores before gingerly turning from his left side to his right. 

And there was Harry, his Harry, the Harry of dreams and the Harry of reality, proving himself a hero once again by simply being there. Harry hadn’t left. Harry had stayed. 

Draco allowed himself the luxury of lying there and staring at the man for a few blissful minutes. He had somehow forgotten in the night just how incredibly beautiful Harry was. 

He must have pushed Draco’s blue plaid blanket off of his chest some time during the night, so Draco could see that he was still wearing the same tatty green t-shirt from the night before. It was riding up his stomach a few inches, and Draco felt a flutter in his chest as he glanced at the exposed trail of dark hair leading from Harry’s belly button down into the top of his jeans. His left arm had been flung up over his head, the other draped languidly over his ribs, a slight grin playing on his lips. His hair lay wild and free on the thick white pillow that they were sharing. His face was peaceful in sleep, and Draco could hardly let himself believe that Harry was really here beside him. Draco couldn’t stop smiling.

He reached a hand out from underneath his blanket and mindlessly traced the black lettering on Harry’s shirt, just staring at his striking face, watching the way the sunrise painted the features into something new. 

Draco knew Harry couldn’t be as comfortable as he looked, having slept in jeans all night. Curiosity prompted him to glance down at his own body and, sure enough, he too was still wearing last night’s clothing: white dress shirt, black trousers. He decided he wasn’t wholly uncomfortable, but he was certainly ready for a shower, a wee, and a fresh outfit. Maybe not in that order. And now that he thought about it, his mouth tasted rather grungy as well. 

Much as he loved lying close to Harry and absorbing his warmth, after a few more lazy minutes, Draco’s bladder couldn’t take it any longer. He stealthily sat up in bed and manoeuvred his legs over the edge, hoping he hadn’t woken Harry with his movement.

The thought struck him forcefully just then: Merlin, Harry Potter was in his bed. He felt himself giggle and thanked his lucky stars that Harry was not awake to hear it. 

“What’re you giggling about, Malfoy?” 

Draco jumped and looked over at Harry, whose eyes were still closed. 

“You’re sleeping!” Draco exclaimed rather stupidly.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his smile widening. “Must be dreaming that giggle. Can’t be real. Too cute.”

Draco smiled at him, even though Harry still hadn’t opened his eyes, because smiling at Harry was just a thing he had to do.

“I need the loo,” Draco said, by way of explanation.

“Hurry up, then,” Harry said. “I want to wake up next to you again.”

“Again?”

“Last night,” Harry muttered. “And just now.”

Draco's foggy mind finally put two and two together; obviously at some point in the night, Harry had woken up and somehow managed to put Draco into bed without waking him. Draco must’ve been out like a light to have slept through it.

Harry released a soft groan and scratched his bare stomach. His breathing was becoming steadier and deeper, and Draco knew he was falling back to sleep already, if he had even been fully awake to begin with. 

Draco couldn’t resist the impulse to bend over the bed and kiss Harry’s cheek, his forehead, his lips. 

“Potter, you taste absolutely revolting,” Draco snorted. 

Harry muttered unintelligibly, and Draco watched him until he heard the soft snores once again. Draco thought it was rather fitting that Harry snored, somehow. He even thought it was just a little bit sexy, although he would never tell anyone that, least of all Harry. He’d never hear the end of it.

Draco gave the top of Harry’s head one last kiss and then padded quietly to the bathroom across the hall. 

One look in the mirror after Draco had used the toilet and he felt grateful that Harry hadn’t opened his eyes: he was an utter mess. Dark red and purple splotches marked up his neck, courtesy of one Mr. Harry Potter. His hair was a total disaster, sticking out in every which way like… well, rather like Harry’s, though with a decidedly less attractive effect.

On top of all that, not only had he consumed more alcohol last night than he had in years (and it showed), but he had also gone to sleep without adhering to his evening skin care regimen. He thought he looked rather grey this morning. One of the unfortunate consequences of having skin this pale: it was far less forgiving than someone with, for example, Harry’s rich golden brown skin tone. Potter hadn’t looked any worse for wear this morning. Potter had looked absolutely perfect.

Groaning, Draco immediately splashed his face and brushed his teeth. He paused for a moment, debating whether or not he should leave the love bites on his neck, not only as physical evidence of the night before, but also just to see how Harry would react. The thought made him giggle. 

Ultimately he decided he didn’t need the reminder that Harry had sucked and bitten his way all over Draco’s neck--that memory wasn’t going anywhere any time soon--and he spelled the evidence off of himself. The faint red teeth marks on his collarbone, however, he left untouched, smiling to himself as if he had a private joke written right there on his skin.

He stripped off his dress shirt and trousers before realizing that he hadn’t brought any fresh clothing with him into the bathroom. He couldn’t simply strut naked into his bedroom and dress freely after showering; he had a  _ boy _ in there. 

The thought made him giggle again. There was a  _ boy _ in his bed. And not just any boy. Harry Potter was in his bed.  _ Harry Potter _ !

Draco groaned and gently smacked his own face once or twice to force himself to focus. He was really acting quite ridiculous; any self-respecting Slytherin would shake their head at him if they could see him now. But it really wasn’t his fault. Harry just  _ did _ things to him. Mmm, Harry.

Draco took a deep breath.

Yes. The clothing issue. Right. 

Draco tapped his chin thoughtfully, weighing his options. He remembered thinking to himself yesterday how very often his fear dictated his actions and wondered if fear was at play here as well. He supposed he could take a shower, towel off and just saunter back into his bedroom stark naked; after all, it was  _ his _ house, this was  _ his _ morning ritual, and Harry was his… 

What was Harry? Of all the many things they had said to each other yesterday, they hadn’t really asked that question, let alone come up with a clear-cut answer to it. 

Sod it, Draco decided, pulling off his underpants. He hopped in the shower and rinsed the grogginess out of his eyes, giving his body a thorough scrub-down and washing his hair with care. He resisted the urge to sing, but damn, he wanted to.

_ Harry bloody Potter, the things you do to me. _

When he exited the shower, he felt wonderfully awake and oddly jolly. The grey pallor in his face had vanished, and he looked marginally better. Draco may have even gone so far as to say he looked pretty good. Perhaps glowing skin was a happy side effect of being in love.

He wrapped a white towel around his waist and took a deep breath, smiling contentedly. Let the man he loved see him half naked, then. What did he care?

Draco did care, very much, but he forced himself to open the bathroom door and walk back into the bedroom.

Relieved and disappointed in equal measure, Draco saw that Harry was still fast asleep, lying on his stomach now, resting his head on his left arm, having rolled over to the middle of the bed. Draco sighed at the lovely sight of the taut muscles in Harry’s toned back, despite being covered by his t-shirt, and quickly pulled on a pair of underpants beneath his towel. He hadn’t bothered to style his hair, so he used the towel to pat it a little more dry. 

Once his hair was no longer dripping wet, he flung his towel haphazardly over the bed post, shot a quick drying spell at it, and stared at Harry again. He couldn’t fully grasp the fact that Harry was here, in his bed, in his space. His head told him that it was all so incredibly bizarre, but in his heart, it didn’t feel bizarre at all. Draco almost felt as if Harry’s presence had been long overdue, as if he should have been sleeping in Draco’s bed all along, since the beginning of time.

Draco’s bedroom, like the rest of his cottage, was tiny. There was hardly enough room for more than a bed, a nightstand and a small wardrobe, and so the only place to sit was the bed itself. Draco decided this was fine by him, and he crawled back in beside Harry, in nothing but his pants. 

With Harry sprawled out on his stomach in the middle of the bed, Draco had just enough room to scoot in close, curving his arm around Harry’s back and nestling one of his legs in between Harry’s. He leaned his head against Harry’s shoulder and thought to himself how utterly wonderful this felt. Harry was warm, almost too warm, and even a little bit sticky with sweat, but his heat felt lovely against Draco’s bare skin. 

He heard Harry’s gentle moan and smiled to himself, kissing Harry’s shoulder. 

“I already miss talking to you,” Draco whispered. He couldn’t help himself. Harry just made him say stupid things. “Wake up so I can hear what you have to say.”

“Smell nice,” Harry murmured. 

Draco smiled into Harry’s neck. “Thank you.”

After a few minutes of contentedly listening to Harry’s breathing become a snore once again, Draco slowly pulled himself away from Harry’s back. After planting a few feather-light kisses on his neck, he stood up and glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was still only 7:15, but that wasn’t all that early for him, even for the weekend. Draco decided to make the most of the early morning and let Harry sleep as long as he could in the bright room.

He took a pair of socks, a smart blue v-neck jumper and a pair of his most casual grey trousers out of his wardrobe and pulled them on, and then he kissed the top of Harry’s head one more time, just because he could. He quietly left the room and closed the bedroom door behind him as he made his way down the small hallway, running his fingers through his damp hair as he went.

Draco took a quick look around his sitting room as he passed through it to the kitchen. Harry must have turned off the radio and put out the fire some time in the night before taking Draco to bed. The sheer domesticity of the image made him smile. 

Draco picked up two nearly-empty bottles of Newcastle from his coffee table and brought them into the kitchen with him, dumping the lukewarm contents down the sink. He filled his kettle and set it on the stove top, staring out his window. He smiled to himself when he remembered that he needed to fill it for two this morning. He wasn’t entirely sure that he had stopped smiling the whole morning, in fact. Another giggle escaped his mouth; really, this was beyond ridiculous. He felt like a third-year. A third-year Hufflepuff, even. Good grief. 

But still he couldn’t resist replaying every moment from the night before in his mind: the first moment that he saw Harry’s unglamored face in the pub, Harry’s knee touching his own, the way Harry had made him tea. He turned and stared at the countertop where Harry had muttered obscene sounds into his ear as they stroked each other to completion. 

Draco was lost in every memory until the whistle of the kettle nudged him back to the present. He spent a few lazy minutes moving about the kitchen, using his wand at intervals to gather some supplies for breakfast. All the while, he thought of Harry. All the while, he smiled.

After Draco had finished his first cup of tea, he meandered outside and watered the plants in his garden and his front yard, enjoying the slight chill of the early morning. He fought back the urge to pick a flower for Harry, because that would be entirely too pathetic. He came back into the house through the back door and walked over to the tea service on the counter, picking up the tea pot once again.

As he was adding a splash of milk and two teaspoons of sugar to his second cup of tea at the kitchen counter and wondering whether he should take a cup to the bedroom for Harry, Draco heard footsteps moving up behind him. He felt an embarrassing onslaught of snitches dancing in his gut, and he didn’t turn around, simply because he didn’t want Harry to see his foolishly large grin. 

It didn’t matter, though, because Harry instantly wrapped his arms around Draco’s middle from behind, clutching Draco snugly against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of Draco’s neck as Draco stirred his tea with slightly shaking fingers. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but his smile grew wider.

“Morning, angel,” Harry murmured against his neck. 

Draco’s heart stuttered at the sound of Harry’s groggy voice, and he felt his face grow warm with pleasure. “Good morning, Potter.”

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” Harry muttered before he kissed his way up Draco’s neck and onto his ear.

“Merlin, Potter, you smell like someone who recently died in a brewery,” Draco teased in a futile attempt to tame his giddy emotions. He took a sip of his tea.

Harry chuckled and kissed Draco’s shoulder three times before he answered, “And you smell like someone who recently fell from heaven.”

“You can dispense with the chat-up lines, Harry, I’m already yours,” Draco said softly, setting his tea cup down on the countertop. 

Harry’s grip tightened and he let out a contented hum against Draco’s neck. “Well then I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m afraid I’ll be showering you with chat-up lines for the rest of our lives.”

Harry went still for a moment, and Draco felt Harry’s arms stiffen a little around his waist, as if he was afraid he had overstepped and might scare Draco off. After all, Draco had, admittedly, been a little up and down with his feelings last night. But only a little, of course.

“Or, you know, for the foreseeable future,” Harry amended softly into Draco’s ear before kissing it.

But Draco didn’t want him to backtrack. He wanted Harry to talk about the rest of their lives, all the time. He wanted ‘for the rest of our lives’ to be a given. He wanted Harry to hold him like this forever. He wasn’t afraid anymore. 

“Just call a spade a spade, Potter,” Draco said with a smile, leaning into Harry’s chest and resting his arms on top of Harry’s. “We both know you were right the first time.”

Draco closed his eyes and leaned his head back onto Harry’s shoulder, contentedly soaking up the kisses Harry was once again raining upon his neck. Draco felt as if he could die perfectly happy right now.

“Honestly,” Draco finally said with a giggle, “I beg of you, go and shower, you reek.”

“You love it,” Harry said. Draco heard the smile in his voice. 

Harry took the not-so-subtle hint, however, and pulled himself away from Draco with one last kiss on the shoulder. 

Draco spun around to catch a glimpse of him before he left the room, but Harry remained standing a few steps away, staring back at him. This was the first time he had looked into Harry’s eyes this morning and he quite forgot everything else as he got lost in them now. 

Harry’s smile was everything good in the world, and Draco decided that he needed several doses of it every day from now until the end of time. Harry took a step towards him, and another, and Draco instinctively held his arms open. Harry fell into his embrace and they hugged each other close. Draco couldn’t tell if the racing heartbeat he felt was his or Harry’s.

“You feel wonderful,” Harry whispered in his ear. “I love holding you.”

“You feel warm,” Draco replied with a chuckle. “And sweaty.”

“I think you love that, too,” Harry murmured, laughing. 

“I do love it,” Draco admitted, nuzzling Harry’s neck. “You make me want to hold you all the time.”

“Did I mention I’m happy you’re a cuddler?” Harry asked as he gently nibbled on Draco’s ear.

“I believe you did, Harry,” Draco whispered. 

“I won’t kiss you,” Harry whispered back. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”

“You’re revolting, Potter,” Draco sighed happily. “Kiss me anyway.”

Harry didn’t wait for him to change his mind and he kissed Draco, slowly and deeply. Harry tasted predictably grimy, but Draco hardly cared. He was happy to remain frozen in this moment, kissing his beloved indefinitely. They had all the time in the world for what might come later.

Finally they broke apart, arms still loosely draped over each other’s waists. 

“I’ll start breakfast,” Draco said quietly. He knew he was smiling. 

“My hero,” Harry said as he gave Draco a kiss on the cheek and another brilliant smile. He pulled his arms away and took a tiny step back. 

To Draco’s shock, Harry reached around and smacked his bottom before he turned to leave the kitchen. Draco let out a surprised whimper.

“You animal!” Draco cried with a laugh. 

“You love that too!” Harry smiled, backing out of the kitchen as if he simply couldn’t tear his eyes off of Draco. Finally he disappeared around the corner and into the hallway.

“Borrow some of my clothes if you refuse to use a cleaning charm on your own, you barbarian!” Draco called after him.

“Your clothes won’t fit me, you skinny bitch!” Harry called from down the hall.

Draco laughed and took a sip of his tea. 

Once Harry wasn’t around to distract him, Draco was able to whip up a quick breakfast of bacon and toast for the two of them, buttering the last slices of bread just as Harry walked back into the kitchen a while later.

“There, I smell fresh as a daisy now,” Harry said. Draco turned from the counter to look at him and stopped dead.

Harry walked through the kitchen doorway, hair still wet, wearing the same pair of fitted jeans he had worn all night… and nothing else. The jeans hung low on his hips, as he had forgone the belt he’d worn the previous night. Draco knew his mouth was gaping but he didn’t care. A shirtless Potter was a force to be reckoned with. 

His body was peppered with scars here and there, and there was a smattering of dark hair across his chest to match the strip of hair below his belly button. His muscles were well-defined but not overly bulky: precisely Draco’s type. The slight V of Harry’s pelvic bone was visible over the top of his low-slung jeans and Draco felt himself blush as he thought about what the metaphorical arrow was pointing at. Harry was truly a sight to behold, and Draco didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was gawking.

“Eyes up here, Malfoy,” Harry teased a little shyly, leaning over and kissing the dumbfounded Draco on the cheek before bending over the tea service beside them.

“Harry... you’re so  _ hot _ ,” Draco said, unable to control the impulse.

Harry chuckled, but it sounded just a little bit self-conscious to Draco’s ear. He liked that he could already somewhat distinguish between each of Harry’s laughs. 

“Thanks, love,” Harry said casually, pouring himself a cup of black tea. “So what did you make me?”

“Erm… toast. And bacon.” Draco gave his head a quick shake and pulled out two plates for them. “I ran out of eggs the other day, though, and I haven’t had a chance to do any shopping. Cast a warming charm on your tea, but everything else should still be hot.”

“There’s that word again,” Harry said, a mischievous smirk on his face. He took the plate Draco handed to him and began filling it with food. “I don’t need eggs.”

“Be sure to save me a few crumbs, will you?” Draco teased. 

He came up close behind Harry and ran a hand affectionately down his bare back, resting his chin on the top of Harry’s shoulder. His body was hard and smooth and warm and… Merlin, completely mouthwatering. Draco smelled his own soap and body lotion on Harry’s skin, and while he missed Harry’s normal smell, it still made his heart sing.

“Give me your plate, I’ll dish yours,” Harry said.

Draco was more than happy to let Harry serve him, simply because he knew it would make Harry happy to do so. He handed Harry his plate, and Harry planted another kiss on his cheek before Draco could walk away. 

Draco sat down at the kitchen table and leaned back in his chair, allowing himself the luxury of enjoying the perfect view with his morning tea. Harry was facing away from him, and the back of him was just about as pleasing as the front.

“Do you always find yourself so at ease in other people’s houses as to show up shirtless at the breakfast table, Potter?”

Harry laughed. “No, actually. Only at yours.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Draco muttered. 

“You look really good in blue,” Harry said, dishing up the bacon.

“I do, don’t I?” Draco said smugly. 

“You do,” Harry agreed. “Makes your eyes stand out even more.”

“More than what?”

“More than before.”

“Before what?”

Harry laughed at him. “Will you just take the compliment, you gorgeous, infuriating prat?”

Draco smiled and sipped his tea. “Well, you look good standing in my kitchen half-naked.”

“Do I?” Harry asked quietly. Draco could hear the smile in his voice even though he couldn’t see it.

“You do. It’s rather distracting, as a matter of fact,” Draco said honestly.

“Would you like me to put a shirt on?” Harry asked, smiling over his shoulder at Draco as he placed several pieces of toast onto each plate. 

“No,” Draco said. “In fact, you might even be wearing too many clothes as it is.”

He was surprised at his own boldness for a moment, but he wasn’t about to feel embarrassed anymore. He figured since Harry had already seen every side of him by now, he might as well find out exactly how much cheek he could get away with. 

“Is that so?” Harry asked him, turning around and smiling beatifically at Draco. He walked over to the table, hovering the two heaping plates of food as he came. 

“It is,” Draco said, moving his hands to his lap as Harry set his plate before him. “Thank you.”

Harry placed another quick peck on the top of Draco’s head and sat down across from him. He then levitated his tea over to the table.

“I like your hair like that, too,” Harry said. 

“So full of compliments this morning,” Draco said, smiling at him and reaching for the marmalade. 

“You’re easy to compliment,” Harry continued, grinning broadly at him. “And I like complimenting you.”

“Because I’m perfection incarnate?” Draco suggested.

Harry snorted and smeared his own toast with marmalade after Draco had finished with it. “Hey, you were up really early.”

“That wasn’t exactly a smooth change of subject, Potter,” Draco said, taking a bite of his breakfast. The bacon was cooked to perfection, if he did say so himself, but Harry had, of course, given him more than half of the food, and he knew he would never finish it all. 

“You should know by now that nothing about me is smooth, Draco,” Harry said, grinning. 

Draco smiled, staring at the hair on Harry’s chest. “So I see.”

“Does my chest hair bother you?” Harry said, shovelling half a slice of toast into his mouth in one bite. 

“Not nearly as much as your terrible manners, you lout,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. 

“You secretly adore my terrible manners,” Harry said with a full mouth. “You like it when people give you a chance to show off how proper you are in comparison.”

Draco smiled delightedly despite himself. Harry was very right, and he felt warmed to know that he was still being observed like this.

“And you play up your poor manners just because it pleases you when I point them out,” Draco countered.

“Mhmm,” Harry agreed through another bite of toast. “See how well we know each other, Malfoy?”

Draco took a demure sip of tea in response, and then he held his plate beside Harry’s, transferring three slices of bacon over with his fork.

“You don’t like it?” Harry asked, confused. 

“The bacon, or your chest hair?” Draco grinned. 

“Both.” Harry grinned back.

“I love your chest hair,” Draco said honestly. Best not to elaborate for now. He was a little embarrassed to feel his cheeks warming.

Harry smiled at him, that lovely half smile that he had missed seeing in the past few hours.

“And the bacon?”

“It’s good,” Draco said. “But I can’t eat this much in the morning.”

“You only have two slices left,” Harry pointed out. 

“There’s a reason I’m half your size, Potter,” Draco said. “I’m sure you can handle three more.”

“Of course, I’m a growing boy,” Harry said, smiling widely.

Draco raised a single eyebrow and took a bite of toast even as he smirked. 

“Do you always wake up early at the weekend?” Harry asked him. 

“Ordinarily, yes,” Draco replied. “I’m a morning person.”

“I am, too,” Harry said. “But not quite such an  _ early _ morning person if I’ve been up late the night before.”

“My body is used to it, I suppose,” Draco said. “Even as a child I was expected to be up with the birds. I’ve never been able to shake the habit.”

“So was I,” Harry said. “Expected to be up early, that is. But I’ve always liked the early mornings anyway.”

“I do as well.”

They both took a synchronized bite of bacon and grinned at each other. Draco thought to himself how altogether lovely it was to simply have someone with him at his breakfast table, eating together companionably. It made such a nice change that he thought he would be happy if anyone sat across from him, but the fact that it was Harry made it all so much  _ more _ . And the little smiles, coy glances, and foot nudges they kept exchanging--not to mention the fact that Harry was shirtless--made this an absolutely perfect morning. 

“This is great, Draco,” Harry muttered through a full mouth a few minutes later, once his plate had nearly been cleared. 

“Glad you’re enjoying it, dearest,” Draco said, using the endearment only partly in teasing but finding that it rolled off the tongue quite pleasantly.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Harry said. 

“What’s nice?”

“Dearest,” Harry smiled. “I like that. Call me that all the time, please.”

Draco grinned and then laughed. “First you wanted Harry, now you want dearest. Such a fickle, demanding man you are, Potter.”

“Draco, you have no idea how demanding I can be,” Harry said salaciously over the rim of his mug. Draco nearly choked on his last bite of toast. 

“Oh,” he muttered, staring. 

Harry took a sip of tea and licked his lips, just staring back at Draco as if he were a porterhouse steak. 

“Finish your breakfast,” Harry said, predictably demanding.

Draco raised his eyebrow in question, his heart immediately picking up speed even as he tried his best to disguise his interest. 

“It’s morning now,” Harry explained. “That no-shagging line I drew last night has officially expired and I want to celebrate by sucking your cock.”

Draco veritably whimpered out loud. His cock hardened instantaneously under the table as he stared at Harry in utter shock. 

“Harry,” he whispered. 

Harry took another innocent sip of tea. “Draco?”

“Wh--”

He couldn’t formulate any words. 

“Erm,” he tried again. 

Harry just smiled at him seductively, and then he brought his marmalade-covered thumb to his lips and licked it. Those green eyes were sinful. Draco felt his prick twitch.

“I hardly know what to say,” Draco finally managed to stammer, his face flaming. 

“You don’t need to say anything,” Harry said. “You won’t need to do anything at all, really. Just lie back and let me lick you and suck you until you come in my mouth.”

Draco was truly speechless now. He couldn’t even breathe, let alone sift any coherent words from the completely vulgar thoughts that suddenly flooded his mind. 

But this was his Harry. He didn’t need to filter those thoughts; he could say anything he was thinking, do anything he wanted to do. He knew in his deepest core that Harry was his safe place; he had made that very clear several times last night. And Draco wanted him. Oh, how he wanted him.

“Yes, please, Harry,” Draco allowed himself to mutter, staring into Harry’s eyes. “Take me into your mouth and let your tongue slide over my cock, up the base, over the tip. Lick up my precum and listen to me moan your name.”

Harry’s breath was ragged as he stared at Draco’s mouth, his own mouth slightly open. He leaned forward and Draco felt himself do the same, drawn to Harry like he always had been. 

“Is that what you want, Draco?” Harry breathed out, licking his lips. “You want me to explore your cock with my mouth? You want to shoot your load down my throat?”

“Yes,” Draco whispered, practically vibrating with arousal. He swallowed and stared at Harry, drinking in his eyes, his mouth, his thick stubble, his chest. “Make my cock messy with your spit. Get it rock hard and wet. Make me crazy with wanting you.”

“You’re done eating, right?” Harry’s voice came out low and crackling with heat. 

“All done,” Draco murmured, standing up so quickly he nearly knocked his chair to the floor. Harry was on his feet just as fast. 

Their mouths met in an aggressive kiss, desperate for each other. Draco felt Harry’s erection poking stiff against his leg, and Draco was fully hard as well. He refused to let himself feel nervous as he rutted up against Harry, grasping at Harry’s body as their tongues writhed against one another. 

“Where?” Draco asked in a strangled whisper against Harry’s mouth, as Harry’s arms came down around his arse. To Draco’s surprise, Harry lifted him up and walked them both out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Draco wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist and swooned just a little at the fact that Harry was carrying him so effortlessly. 

I want to suck you off in your bedroom,” Harry said gruffly. They didn’t kiss again, only stared at each other hungrily as Harry walked down the hall and into Draco’s room. Draco was panting like a depraved whore and he loved it.

When they got there, Harry outright flung Draco back onto his bed and Draco yelped, then giggled. Harry’s face lit up in a smile, and he took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand before he leaned down and crawled up over Draco and kissed him deeply. Harry tasted like Draco’s cinnamon toothpaste and marmalade, and Draco hummed contentedly into his mouth as he placed his hands on either side of Harry’s neck. 

“I’ll never hurt you, you know,” Harry said against his lips, speaking his thoughts out of nowhere, as he so often did. 

This particular thought was surprising, and unexpectedly sweet given the heat of the moment, but it fit somehow. Draco felt his heart stammer, but he smiled broadly. 

“Yes, I know,” Draco murmured, moving his hands down to tug impatiently at Harry’s jeans before kissing him again.

Harry pulled Draco forward by his arms so that he was sitting up, and suddenly Harry was yanking his jumper up. Draco happily let him, shimmying his wrists out of the sleeves and automatically, out of habit, running a hand over his hair to tame it once Harry had removed his jumper. 

Draco greedily leaned in for another kiss, but Harry swiftly pulled his head away. 

Draco looked up in confusion at Harry, who was straddling one of his thighs. He could once again feel Harry’s erection against his leg, and Draco felt like his own erection was about to rip a hole through his trousers. Harry was staring at Draco’s chest and Draco felt immediately self-conscious.

“Wh--,” Draco began, but he quickly realized exactly what Harry was staring at and dropped his hands from Harry’s chest to his own sides. “Oh.”

Harry sat very still on top of him, breathing heavily, staring at the multitude of large pink scars that had once marked Draco’s body as vividly as blood against snow. They had faded some over time, but even now, they were a stark silhouette against the pale skin of his hairless chest.

Draco kept looking at Harry, trying desperately to read his unmoving face, but he could not. He gently took Harry’s hands in his own.

“Harry?” 

But Harry pulled his hands free and slowly traced his fingers along each scar, gentle as a whisper. A crease had formed between his eyebrows. He wouldn’t meet Draco’s eyes.

“I did this to you,” he finally said, matter-of-fact, emotionless. 

Draco couldn’t exactly deny it, so he touched Harry’s stubbled cheek, soft but firm. 

“Harry…”

“You told me it only scarred a little,” Harry said. Draco was relieved to hear some emotion in it, even if it was anger. He had seen Harry angry plenty of times before; it didn’t scare him. When they were children, he had always either been the reason for that anger, or had gleefully poked it until it got worse. Now all he wanted to do was ease it, make everything better. Harry should only feel good things, forever and always. 

“Look at me,” Draco said, keeping his voice steady and calm. 

It took a few seconds, but when Harry complied, Draco could see that his eyes were brimming with tears. He felt his heart give an unpleasant jolt inside his chest and he leaned forward and kissed Harry without even thinking about it. Harry didn’t kiss him back, but he didn’t pull away either. 

When Draco pulled back, he kissed Harry’s chin, his neck, his collarbone. He wanted to feel Harry’s heat again.

“It’s your turn,” Draco whispered into his neck. 

A moment later, Harry said, “What?”

“To tell me what you’re thinking,” Draco muttered, kissing Harry’s chest, right over his heart. 

“I’m… not exactly sure,” Harry said. “Your kisses are distracting me.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco muttered, pulling back slightly. “I’m trying to help.”

Harry finally leaned forward and kissed Draco’s lips, softly, almost reluctantly. Draco eagerly kissed him back until Harry pulled away. 

“I know, angel,” Harry said gently.

Draco looked into his eyes, trying desperately once more to read him, but still he couldn’t. 

“Tell me, Harry,” Draco urged him, feeling slightly anxious. 

Harry moved his hands, hesitantly tracing the scars on Draco’s chest once again. 

Draco could easily imagine exactly what he was seeing. Every time he had his shirt off he saw them too, though the sight almost never affected him anymore. Draco sometimes even found that he rather liked how they looked, and he certainly didn’t care that Harry had been the one to leave them there. What bothered him now was that looking at Draco had made Harry’s eyes lose their spark; something about Draco had extinguished Harry’s fire. That hurt a thousand times worse than he thought it could. 

“If you’re not going to talk to me, then I’d like you to get off of me,” Draco said, suddenly angry at Harry for making him feel this way. 

Harry’s face at least displayed a little bit of emotion at that, even if it was only surprise. He rested a hand gently on Draco’s arm, right over his Dark Mark.

“No, Draco, I’m just...” Harry began, but Draco pushed at his chest childishly. He wanted to be away from Harry. He wanted to walk out of the room and not have to sit in this hurt. 

But something stopped him, an oddly calm voice in his head, something that sounded a lot like Harry and felt a lot like love. That voice told him not to walk away. No, he’d walked away enough; now was the time to stay. Harry hadn’t left yesterday. Draco wouldn’t leave today. 

He stopped pushing Harry, who hadn’t budged anyway, and let out a long sigh. 

“Draco,” Harry began. “I’m sorry.”

Draco held up a hand to stop him. He breathed in deeply and counted to five. 

“You let me lick your scar,” Draco began, without thinking about his words first. “Yesterday. You said you liked it.”

Harry looked pained. “I did like it.”

“Then why do you hate my scars?”

“Oh Draco, I don’t…”

“Then why are you…”

“Because  _ you _ didn’t give me this scar,” Harry said gruffly, pointing at the lightning bolt on his face. 

“Harry, I don’t give a fuck that you gave them to me,” Draco said honestly. “I told you yesterday, it’s water under the bridge, and I meant that. They don’t hurt me, they don’t bother me, I barely even notice them anymore. But…”

Harry looked as if he was going to start crying at any moment and Draco felt the same way. 

“But if they bother you this much… if you can’t even look at me…”

Harry leaned forward and touched their foreheads together. 

“They only bother me because they’re reminders of the fact that I hurt you,” he said, barely audible. “And I can’t  _ not _ look at you, you daft prat, you’re beautiful.”

Draco sighed again, and Harry’s lips brushed against his. 

“Do you think I’m damaged goods?” Draco was shocked that it had come out of his mouth, in the quietest of whispers. He hadn’t even been aware that he was thinking it. He could feel a lump forming in his throat, and he looked into Harry’s eyes, needing his reassurance more desperately than he wanted to admit. 

There was a ferocity in Harry’s eyes that stirred something in him. Harry touched the sides of Draco’s face. 

“No,” he said forcefully. “I don’t think you’re damaged goods, because you’re  _ not _ damaged goods. Never say that again, Draco Malfoy. Do you understand me?”

Draco nodded, losing the last of his doubts in the summer green of Harry’s eyes. He felt the conviction behind Harry’s words in his very core. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever felt so completely safe.

“You asked me to tell you what I’m thinking,” Harry said in a low voice. “I’m thinking that I hate myself for hurting you, for making you even ask me that question. And that you’re absolutely perfect, exactly as you are. That you make me insanely, wildly happy. Honestly, Draco, I can’t even fully catch up with it, it’s just pulling me along and making me mental and randy and completely ecstatic all at once. And, as messed up as this is for me to say, I’m thinking that that stupid prick who told you your scars were sexy was fucking right.”

Draco felt a slow smile ease onto his face with Harry’s words. 

“That is a lot of thoughts to be had, Potter,” he murmured, brushing Harry’s hair away from his face. 

“You aren’t wrong,” Harry said, smiling back at him and then giving him a truly delicious wink. 

They both sighed then, and Draco was surprised when Harry suddenly leaned forward and sucked on his nipple. Draco felt his cock twitch.

“D’you know, I’m fully mad about you?” Harry said softly, pulling away and gracing Draco with another of his heart-stopping half smiles.

“I had wondered,” Draco whispered, suddenly lunging forward for a kiss. He pushed his whole body towards Harry, and Harry squeezed him tightly, as if afraid that Draco would change his mind and try to pull away. Harry’s arms were like steel cables around his back, and he loved the feeling. 

Harry pulled away from the kiss and looked intensely into Draco’s eyes. “I love your scars. Every last one.”

Before Draco could respond, Harry sucked at his bottom lip. Draco let out a low moan and Harry dragged his teeth back along Draco’s cheek.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” Harry whispered, kissing and licking at Draco’s ear. 

“Stop being sorry,” Draco whispered back, fully hard again. 

Without thinking, Draco dropped his hand into Harry’s lap and gently rubbed his fingers against Harry’s rapidly stiffening cock. 

Harry’s answering gasp was sharp and positively sublime in his ear. He exhaled heavily into Draco’s neck, his fingers digging almost painfully into the skin of Draco’s lower back. 

“Oh, fuck,” he murmured into Draco’s ear as Draco slowly started rubbing Harry over his jeans.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this, Harry?” Draco whispered, almost surprised at his own words. Once again, Harry had a way of pulling things out of him. 

“Ah, yes, Draco,” Harry gasped. “I fucking love it.”

Draco began fumbling at Harry’s flies with shaking fingers, suddenly desperate to get him naked. Harry’s lips were on him in an instant, kissing him, hard and eager. Draco moaned when Harry twisted his tongue lecherously against Draco’s, and he pulled clumsily at the zipper and button of Harry’s jeans until they were finally undone. Quickly he tugged at them, Harry taking the hint instantly and lifting himself up, helping Draco pull the jeans down a few inches, over his arse. Draco could see the top of Harry’s cock struggling against his jeans...

“Potter,” Draco gasped breathlessly, “you’re not wearing underwear.”

Harry grinned. “Scandalized?”

“Incredibly,” Draco said, smiling wide before they kissed each other again. This kiss was softer, less desperate, more intimate. Harry’s hand was on his neck, the other clutching his arm. Draco couldn’t wait any longer; he reached down once again and pulled Harry’s jeans down another few inches at the front, freeing his hard cock. Draco kept kissing Harry even as he stroked his erection, delighted when he felt Harry shudder against him. 

“You’re way too good at that,” Harry grumbled against Draco’s lips. 

Suddenly Harry sat up again and shimmied down Draco’s legs, placing his fingers on the button of Draco’s trousers. Mercifully Draco had forgone a belt as well, and Harry quickly and dexterously undid the button and pulled the zipper down. Even though Harry was nearly naked, his jeans bunched up around his thighs, Draco couldn’t look away from his face. The desperate, hungry way that Harry stared back at him made his cock leak.

“Lift up,” Harry commanded. 

Draco obeyed immediately, lifting his hips up off the bed. Harry pulled Draco’s trousers down swiftly and forcefully, along with his pants, and Draco dropped his hips again, letting Harry pull the remainder of his clothing, including his socks, off of his legs. He watched Harry toss it all lightly onto the floor in a heap. 

Draco suddenly realized he was naked, completely naked in front of Harry. He had never been naked in front of anyone in this way before, and it made him tense up on instinct. He found himself wishing the room wasn’t quite so bright now, wishing he was half as well-muscled as Harry, wishing that he was not so very pale... 

“Don’t,” Harry murmured gruffly, gazing down at Draco’s body, unapologetically studying every inch. “Don’t be self-conscious. You are absolutely angelic. Draco, you’re perfect.”

Mmm, Draco did love when Harry complimented him, and he loved it even more when Harry read his mind like that. He smiled and pulled Harry down for a deep, sloppy kiss. Draco drew away with a sharp gasp only a moment later, when he felt Harry’s hand grasping his cock. 

“Oh, Harry,” he sighed, moaning continually as Harry repeatedly stroked his prick for a few incredible moments.

“Draco… fuck, I love how loud you are.”

Draco couldn’t help it; he laughed, embarrassed, against Harry’s lips and Harry chuckled in response. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be loud,” Draco croaked, even as he moaned again. “I can’t really control it.”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop being loud,” Harry ordered, the sincerity in his tone sounding almost menacing. “Your moaning is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

He tightened his grip ever so slightly on Draco’s cock and ran his thumb over the tip to catch a drip of precum, and Draco predictably released a loud cry in response. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Harry muttered huskily, sucking his thumb into his mouth. “Like that. Just like that, Draco.”

Draco was hardly aware of the noises he was making, Harry’s hand slowly working him into a tizzy, but soon, too soon, he pulled his hand away. Draco whimpered in objection, his cock a dripping, rigid mess, but Harry only smiled up at him, a slightly evil glint in his eye. Before Draco could register what was happening, Harry leaned down and took Draco’s cock in his mouth. 

Draco knew the sound he made then was indecently loud, animalistic, raw. He could barely stand the onslaught of sensation as Harry slowly moved his head up and down Draco’s erection, and he laced his fingers through Harry’s thick hair. He was entirely unconscious of anything coming out of his mouth as he threw his head back in complete ecstasy, Harry’s tongue running over the length of his prick with tantalizing slowness. 

He wasn’t going to last, it was too good, too warm, too wet, too  _ much _ . Draco bucked his hips, pushing his cock deeper inside Harry’s mouth; he was going to come violently down Harry’s throat, at any moment…

“Harry… I’m going to…”

Before he could even finish the warning, Draco came explosively into Harry’s mouth, almost screaming from the sheer force of it. He felt suspended in that moment in time, frozen inside of this indescribable high. Shocks of pleasure rolled through him, in his veins, over his skin, everywhere. When he finally became aware of his surroundings, he could hear himself sighing “Harry” again and again.

Draco bit his lip in an attempt to control himself and heard the swift movement of fabric in the back of his mind, but he had no sense of how much time had passed when he felt Harry’s lips meet his own. He tasted his own cum on Harry’s tongue and he found the taste odd and foreign. 

But the way he felt… it was nothing short of perfection. He felt his hand drift down as if of its own mind, instinctually gripping Harry’s cock in his hand. Harry was slippery with precum and as hard as a rock, and Draco’s other roaming hand quickly discovered that Harry had kicked off his jeans and was now completely naked as well. Draco’s eyes flew open; he needed to see. 

He pushed Harry away slightly and Harry yielded, gazing down at Draco with nearly black eyes and an open, pink mouth. His body… oh, it was divine. 

He had seen Harry’s cock for the first time last night, but they had both been almost fully clothed then. Seeing Harry completely exposed before him was an entirely new experience. Every line of Harry was defined and hard, and Draco pulled his head down once again for a long kiss. He felt Harry’s erection against his stomach, felt precum pooling on his skin. He moaned at the sensation. 

“Harry,” he groaned, and Harry sucked his neck in response. 

“Harry…” he repeated, pushing at Harry weakly. 

Harry moved back slightly, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Draco…?”

“Get on your back. I need to suck you off. Now.”

Harry made that heavenly guttural noise once again, and he fell heavily onto his back, staring up at Draco helplessly, as if he was drunk, begging for him through hooded eyes. Draco didn’t think he had ever seen anything so attractive. 

“Draco,” Harry whispered, but he said nothing else.

He didn’t need to. Draco wasted no time climbing over top of Harry, kissing his lips, his chin, his neck, his chest. He skated his tongue over Harry’s brown nipple, then over the other; over a scar on his stomach; over the thin trail of hair below his belly button that enthralled him so. 

He pulled back for a moment to appreciate the way Harry looked in that instant. His eyes were closed, his arm was flung over his head, and his mouth was wide open. He looked so thoroughly aroused that Draco knew he wouldn’t last long either. Draco wanted to stop time and stare at him, just like this, until the end of his days. 

Had Draco thought about it for more than a moment, he would have been anxious that he was about to give a man oral sex for the first time in his life. But he couldn’t find it in himself to be nervous; he wanted this too much. 

Bravely, he leaned down and slowly licked his way around the base of Harry’s cock, over his balls, up the shaft. Harry was moaning almost as loudly as Draco was sure he himself had been, and when Draco flicked his tongue several times in quick succession over the tip of Harry’s leaking cock, Harry yelled out a string of curse words and a few more grunting moans. He clenched his fists in Draco’s hair, tugging almost painfully, and Draco slowly eased his head down, taking Harry fully into his mouth.

The taste of Harry’s precum mingled with the taste of Draco’s soap on his skin, a heady concoction. Harry cried out loudly, and Draco moaned against his cock at the sound, only making Harry cry out once again from the vibration of it. Draco wanted more.

He moved his head, moved his lips, moved his tongue. He worshipped Harry’s cock with eager fascination, wanting Harry to feed him his load so he could swallow it, wanting to hear Harry’s pleasure as he came for Draco. Draco moaned again simply from the delicious anticipation of it.

It wasn’t long before Harry’s breathing turned into erratic panting, and Draco felt himself shiver when he heard Harry moan, “I’m gonna come... Draco...”

Draco pushed his lips down as far as he could onto Harry’s prick, and Harry released a loud groan, coming forcefully into Draco’s mouth and shooting down his throat. Draco pulled back a little in surprise, feeling and tasting the warm liquid at the back of his throat, invading his whole mouth. He swallowed just to keep up, and Harry shuddered. 

Finally, when he could feel that Harry was finished, Draco slowly pulled his lips off of Harry’s cock and sat up. He looked up and met Harry’s eyes as he swallowed the last of Harry’s cum, wiping a finger across his bottom lip and sucking it as he stared at Harry. 

Harry moaned again in response and reached his arms up with a lazy grin, wordlessly beckoning Draco to come closer. Draco smiled back and complied happily, leaning in and kissing him. 

When he pulled away, Harry sighed and then swore under his breath. Draco brushed the shaggy black hair from his face and stared at him for a moment. A just-fucked Harry was downright addictive to stare at.

“You taste like my cum,” Harry murmured quietly, a grin on his face.

“ _ You _ taste like  _ my _ cum,” Draco replied, snickering, and shifted onto his side so he was snuggled up against Harry’s body.

“I don’t mind,” Harry said. “Pretty hot.”

“Freak,” Draco murmured, smiling. He couldn’t agree more.

Harry chuckled, moving his arm so it was draped around Draco’s shoulders. “That was insane.”

“Insane?”

“Yeah… hey, are you okay? I mean, how do you feel now?”

Draco smiled to himself at the concern in Harry’s voice and leaned over to kiss his nipple. “I feel much better than okay. You?”

Harry let out a loud huff. “Ditto.”

A moment later, Harry asked him, “You’ve really never sucked anyone’s cock before?”

“No,” Draco said, a bit self-consciously.

“You’re really good at it,” Harry said, squeezing his arm a little and kissing his forehead. “I usually last longer than that.”

“That’s what all boys say,” Draco teased. 

“Ah, I see how it is,” Harry said playfully, brushing his fingers lazily against Draco’s arm while Draco mindlessly fingered the hair on Harry’s chest. “You only said you were a virgin to appease my jealous arse, is that it?”

Draco snorted. “I never say anything just to appease you, Potter.”

Harry laughed. “Liar.”

“Mmm, you’re right,” Draco murmured softly. “I think I would say just about anything if I knew it would make you happy, my Harry.”

Harry’s fingers stilled against his arm and Draco turned his head to look up at him. Harry was looking down at him with wonder in his eyes. 

“Draco…” he whispered, then shook his head. “Fuck.”

“What?” he asked, nuzzling his leg between Harry’s.

“You just do that sometimes; we’re going along all flirty and teasing and then you say something so profoundly romantic that it makes my heart stop. It always shocks me.”

“Well I like shocking you, dearest,” Draco said with a smile.

“Ah, that word,” Harry sighed. “I like dearest.”

“You said.”

“I like how you talk,” Harry stated.

“You said that, too,” Draco smiled. 

“I like everything about you.”

“I think you may have even said that already, as well,” Draco laughed. “Perhaps we’ve officially run out of things to say.”

“You’ll never run out of things to say,” Harry snorted. “You love hearing yourself talk.”

Draco swatted his chest. “Excuse me! None of that. Only nice things, if you please.”

Harry laughed and kissed his forehead again. “Alright. Then I love hearing you talk, too. And you’re perfect.”

Draco smiled to himself. “You definitely said that, also.”

Then, suddenly, Draco realized something.

“You’ve never sucked a man off before either, have you?”

“Oh, was it that obvious?” Harry said.

“Of course not,” Draco muttered. If he hadn’t known any better, based on that experience, he would’ve assumed Harry had sucked off every man in the country. “You told me as much. Last night, remember? You told me you’d never been with a man, you gooseberry.”

“Gooseberry?” Harry laughed. 

“Yes, you’re my gooseberry, Harry Potter,” Draco grinned. “My gooseharry.”

“Oh bollocks,” Harry laughed. “I can’t decide if that’s the cutest thing you’ve ever said, or if I want it obliviated from your memory forever.”

“It’s often a slippery slope with me, Potter.”

After a pause, Harry whispered, “Was it okay?”

Draco wrapped his arm over Harry’s stomach and kissed his collarbone. “It was perfect.”

“Good.”

“Was it okay for you?” Draco whispered as well.

Harry kissed the top of his head. “It was perfect.”

Draco smiled and hummed in contentment. 

“Good.”

“Hey, what do you usually do at the weekend?” Harry said a moment later, placing his hand on top of Draco’s. 

Draco smiled. “And you do  _ that _ sometimes.”

“What?”

“Well you say things, just out of the blue. Mid-conversation you just take a turn in your thoughts and you voice them out of nowhere. It makes me smile.”

“Why?” Harry asked, stroking his arm. “People have pointed that out to me before, but they seem to be more annoyed by it than anything.”

“Fools,” Draco muttered. “I like it. I like knowing what you’re thinking at any given moment.”

“Well I like telling you.”

“I usually just relax, do some gardening, listen to music, read,” Draco said in answer to his question. “I don’t go out a lot. I’ve become rather reclusive in my old age, it seems.”

“Gardening? So you planted all those flowers outside?” Harry asked him.

“And the tree,” Draco proclaimed proudly.

“Wow.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m very surprised,” Harry said. “I can’t visualize you with dirt under your nails.”

“I’m sure you could, if you tried hard enough,” Draco replied. “I bet you could visualize me doing a great many things, Potter.”

“What a very cheeky thing to say, Draco,” Harry said with a chuckle. 

Draco laughed. “I am cheeky.”

“You’re right, though,” Harry muttered. “I have a great imagination, and I plan on putting it to good use.”

Draco shivered. “Best let ourselves recover for a moment first.”

They chuckled together like teenagers, and Draco tucked himself in closer to Harry.

“Your garden is great, though, by the way,” Harry said. “You’ve done a brilliant job.”

“Thank you. I like it,” Draco said. “I used to sit outside with Mother when she was planting her flowers at the Manor. It’s one of my favorite memories of living there. She taught me a lot about gardening. And yes, before you comment on that, my mother also gardens. I know it will shock you.”

“It does, a little,” Harry admitted. “You Malfoys seem like… indoor folk.”

Draco laughed. “Thank you, Harry.”

“I do mean that as a compliment,” he said.

“I’m sure,” Draco laughed. 

“Well, you are a very posh family,” Harry said, a smile in his voice.

“We really are, aren’t we,” Draco smiled. 

“Maybe we should go on a date,” Harry said, again at random.

“A date?” Draco asked, smiling at the word. 

“Is that something you might be interested in?” he asked.

“Where would we go?” Draco wondered.

“Where would you want to go?” Harry asked. 

“Aren’t you leery of going out in public?”

“Why do we keep asking more questions instead of answering each other?” Harry chuckled. 

“Why are you avoiding my questions?” Draco said with a smile.

“Why are you avoiding mine?”

“Why are you so handsome?” Draco said, looking up at Harry coquettishly and playfully petting his beard.

“How are your eyes so silver?” Harry said, peering down at him.

“You like my eyes?” Draco asked, smiling wide. 

“How could anyone not like your eyes?”

“Who’s going to be the first to cease this question game?” Draco wondered.

“Well who’s more stubborn, Gryffindor or Slytherin?”

Draco snorted. “I’ll forfeit the game just so I can now iterate the monstrous level of Gryffindor stubbornness.”

“Do iterate, sweetheart,” Harry said, squeezing Draco’s hand.

“You’re all just a bunch of blindly heroic oafs, plunging yourselves into dangerous situations in order to either rescue people who don’t deserve it or haven’t asked for it, or else simply for the thrill of it. All in the name of some arbitrary belief that you’re doing the right thing. Either way, ridiculous, stubborn, and stupid, the lot of you. Vastly overrated house.”

“Tell me what you really think, Malfoy,” Harry said, laughing.

“I always have, I always do, and I always will."

“I reckon that’s kind of sweet, all things considered."

“Except when I say hurtful or harsh things, as is often my custom.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky I can take it.” Harry squeezed his shoulder and kissed his forehead affectionately.

“I certainly hope so, Potter.”

“You always balance the harsh with the shockingly romantic, though.”

“Maybe for now,” Draco said. “Perhaps someday when I’m old and crotchety every word out of my mouth will be rude, mean or downright vile.”

“Someday?” Harry teased. 

“Hush,” Draco said sternly, and Harry laughed.

“I’ve always liked your honesty,” Harry said softly after a pause.

“Always?” Draco scoffed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Okay, I’ve always liked your honesty when it hasn’t been ignorant or vicious.”

“I’d say that’s more than fair.”

“But I like knowing what you’re thinking,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Even if it can come off as harsh.”

“I’ve never not been honest with you, you know,” Draco said after a pause. “I do tend to be brutally honest with most people, but I’m only truly unguarded with you. Even when we were at school, I never really filtered myself around you. And I think, as a result, you know me better than anyone.”

“I hope that’s true, because I’m selfish and jealous and really want it to be,” he said. “But I’m sure there are others too. Your mother, or maybe Pansy?”

“Mmm, I miss Pansy,” Draco said, realizing how true it was as he said it. He nuzzled his face into Harry’s pec.

“When did she move to France?”

“Right after the Dark Lord was defeated.” Draco furrowed his brow. “What is that, three years ago now? Four?”

“Three and a bit,” Harry said softly. “Do you ever feel like you want to go visit her?”

“I have before, twice,” Draco said. “The first time just after she arrived, and the second when I helped Blaise move.”

“Maybe you’re due for another trip then.”

“Well, we do have summer vacation coming up at the school.”

“There you go,” Harry said. “Might be nice to see her, and Blaise.”

“If you’re already trying to send me out of the country for a week or two, then I think that’s a rather horrible sign.”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting,” Harry said, chuckling softly. He buried his lips in Draco’s hair and kissed his head again and again.

“Paris is beautiful in the summer,” Draco said wistfully. “The gardens there are completely lovely.”

“I’ve never been,” Harry said. 

“Then let’s go someday,” Draco said, before he could think about what he was asking.

“Do you really want to?”

“Sure, if you do.” He felt a little scared to hear the answer.

“I do.” Harry said. “They say Paris is the most romantic city in the world, you know.”

“I am aware of that, Potter.”

“We could do lots of nice things there.”

“Lots of nice things?”

“You can show me around.”

“Be your skinny blonde tour guide?”

“Yes, be my skinny blonde everything, forever.”

“Harry,” Draco whispered, and then he laughed, because the casual discussion of their future was making him feel slightly lightheaded and he had forgotten what he was going to say. 

“Fuck, your laugh is gorgeous,” Harry sighed.

“Is it?” He tightened his hold around Harry’s middle.

“Yesterday, the first time you really laughed, I wanted to jump on you and snog you a little bit.”

“Oh, a little bit?”

“A smidgeon.”

“You really should have followed that impulse, like a true Gryffindor.”

“Too many things had to be said first before I could snog you,” Harry said reasonably. “You would’ve hexed me into next week if I’d done it then.”

“Not necessarily,” Draco muttered. “There were a few moments where I thought I might enjoy kissing you as well.”

“Well, you did kiss me first.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Very brave and courageous and… dare I say...”

“If you say ‘very Gryffindor’ I really will hex you into next week.”

“Very Slytherin, then,” Harry said, a smile in his voice.

“That I can handle. Cunning, determined, always-gets-his-man Slytherin Draco Malfoy.”

“Always gets his man?” Harry asked with a snicker.

“Only when I want him,” Draco amended. “And I’ve never wanted a man the way that I’ve wanted you, Harry."

Harry sighed. “The things you say really floor me sometimes, love.”

“Yes, well, I think you need a significant other who will floor you.”

“Are you my significant other, then?”

“Are you trying to trap me into admitting how I feel about you?” Draco teased to avoid answering.

“Not at all, you’ve already admitted it a thousand times over, in a thousand different ways.”

“Have I?” Draco asked. “How disappointing to discover that I’m so much less enigmatic than I always endeavor to be.”

“My Victorian prince,” Harry chuckled. 

“Yours,” Draco said. “All yours, as long as you want me.”

“Forever, then.”

Draco sighed. “Honestly Harry, the things you say.”

“Am I too intense for you?”

“Much.”

“Yeah, well,” he said offhandedly. “It’s how I feel.”

“It’s been… what, fourteen hours? Fifteen maybe?”

“Fifteen hours and ten years, don’t forget.”

“Much less than that, if we’re talking about romantic feelings alone,” Draco reasoned. “Don’t forget that either.”

“I know what I feel, Draco,” Harry said, matter-of-factly. 

“I know what I feel, too,” Draco said softly. “But I am also a realist, unlike you, Harry. I know that feelings aren’t permanent. You see the very best in people and situations, and I love that about you. You see how much you care for me, but you don’t see that someday maybe those feelings will change.”

“Damn, Malfoy, that is an unexpectedly depressing and cynical thing to say, only one day after telling each other we were falling in love.” Harry sounded a little bit hurt, even though he was trying to disguise it with teasing. 

“Well, think about it,” Draco said gently. “There are a million factors working against us.”

“Like what?” Harry suddenly seemed a little peeved.

“Well,” Draco said, “our history could become too much for us to handle. We could start associating each other with our past memories, or find that it’s all too much to deal with, emotionally, us being together.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Harry said adamantly. “If it was going to happen, it would’ve already.”

“You don’t know that,” Draco insisted, a little irked that Harry’s blind optimism impeded his ability to think logically. He'd always been this way, even at Hogwarts.

“Then we work through that issue together, if we ever have to.” Harry’s arm loosened a little around Draco’s shoulders, and he unclasped their hands. Draco retaliated by petulantly sliding his hand off of Harry’s stomach.

“Alright, then we could end up quarreling too much,” Draco suggested. “We’re already quarreling about this, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“We’re not quarreling, we’re discussing,” Harry muttered stubbornly. 

Draco laughed in spite of the tension mounting between them.

“We’ve quarreled half our lives anyway,” Harry said, a little softer this time. “I reckon we’re both used to it by now.”

“Fine,” Draco said, changing tack again. “Then what happens when we tell people? No one is going to approve of Potter and Malfoy dating each other. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense to me,” Harry insisted. 

“I mean to other people, Harry,” Draco said. He placed his hand cautiously on Harry’s stomach again.

“Who cares what other people think?” Harry exclaimed.

“Granger and the Weasel? The rest of the Weasleys?” Draco asked pointedly. “I know you care what they think.”

“They’ll only want me to be happy,” Harry said firmly.

“I know,” Draco muttered. “But they’re not exactly on the greatest of terms with me. What if they never accept us? What if they never believe that I’m good enough for you?”

Draco beat back the deeper fear that flitted unwelcome into his mind. What if he  _ wasn’t _ good enough for Harry? Well, he already knew he wasn’t. But what if Harry really did wake up one day and realize it for himself?

“You’re more than good enough,” Harry answered his unspoken thought, placing his hand on top of Draco’s once again.

“My parents hate you,” Draco said bluntly. 

To his surprise, Harry laughed. “Duh.”

“Well their disapproval is certainly going to throw a wrench in things at some point,” Draco said.

“I’ve dealt with a lot worse than disapproving parents, Malfoy,” Harry argued. “And don’t you think they want you to be happy as well?”

“Yes,” he said. “But certainly not with Harry Potter.”

Harry chuckled again. “Honestly, Ferret, do you even _want_ to give this a go?”

“Yes,” he said quickly. “I do.”

“Then we’ll just have to show them all that we make each other happy,” Harry said. “Everyone will come around eventually, when they see how good we are together.”

Draco sighed. “Perhaps.”

“Seriously, Draco, there’s realism and then there’s just pessimism,” he grumbled. “Have a little faith, will you?”

“Harry, I’m just preparing myself for the possibilities,” Draco said. “You may see it as a cynical lack of faith, but I see it as being logical. You know my heart is yours. But you can’t have my brain as well. I’m keeping that with me for as long as we’re together.”

“Merlin, how do I begin to unpack that statement?”

“Try.”

“My heart is yours too.”

“That’s a nice way to start.” Draco smiled, shuffling in a little closer to him.

“Your brain is sexy.”

“That’s just weird.”

“Your good sense is one of my favorite things about you, Draco,” Harry said. “But you’re listing off all the things that could go wrong in just about any relationship, not just ours specifically. And I don’t see any reason why we need to let those doubts into this, because despite what  _ you _ might be thinking, I feel nothing but hopeful when it comes to us. More than hopeful: I feel pretty damn certain, honestly.”

Draco sighed, feeling both flattered by Harry’s remarks and a little remorseful for the negative way he knew he’d sounded. Perhaps being totally unfiltered around Harry wasn’t always the kindest course of action. 

“But Harry,” Draco said sadly, “in the admittedly slim chance that this doesn’t work out... you’re not the one they’re all going to blame.”

There was a long pause. 

Draco surrendered to the impulse to kiss Harry’s chest. “I’m sorry, dearest. I don’t mean to be so pessimistic. I’m just…”

“You’re just Draco,” Harry sighed, finally tightening his hold around Draco’s shoulder and pulling him closer again. “I didn’t mean to get frustrated with you. I see what you’re saying now. But I can promise you now that if anyone comes at you, they’ll have me to deal with.”

Draco smiled, feeling warmed. “Your hero complex truly knows no bounds, Potter.”

Harry snorted. “Whatever, Malfoy. You go right ahead and be the voice of reason in this relationship. I’ll be the mushy optimist. I am perfectly happy with that arrangement.”

Draco let that sit with him for a minute.

“So… relationship?” Draco finally said.

“Relationship.”

“And you agree with that label?” Draco asked. “We’re in a relationship, we’re together, we’re a couple?”

“Yes,” Harry said firmly. “I like it a lot actually.” He kissed the top of Draco’s head once more.

“So you’re my… boyfriend.” The word felt strange on his tongue, but he felt he could get used to it easily.

“And you’re my boyfriend.”

“Hmm.”

“What hmm?”

“I’m just imagining what sixteen year old Draco would say if I told him that Harry Potter is my boyfriend.”

Harry snorted. “Probably something vastly different than what sixteen year old me would say.”

Draco laughed. 

“Are we done quarrelling now?” Harry asked him.

“You mean discussing?” Draco teased. “Yes.”

Harry pulled him even closer. “See? We can face any challenge together.”

“You are profoundly sappy, Potter.”

“Hey, you never really answered about us going on a date,” Harry said after a while.

“Well, you never properly asked me,” Draco said pompously.

Harry chuckled. “Okay, Draco Malfoy, will you go on a date with me?”

Draco knew it was silly, but he felt fluttery at the question and rather like a Hufflepuff third year all over again.

“Yes, Harry Potter, I’ll go on a date with you,” he answered happily. “Where are you going to take me?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Oh Merlin, not this again.”

Harry snickered. “For two blokes who don’t generally leave their houses, it seems like we have limited options.”

“Yes, well, perhaps we’ll simply have to conduct our romantic interludes within the confines of our homes.”

“Seems like that would entail just a lot of boffing.” Harry chuckled like a teenager.

“I’m not opposed to a lot of boffing, Potter, are you?”

“No,” he answered. “But you did say last night that you wanted to take your time.”

“Yes,” Draco said hesitantly. “I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“Well my concerns are hardly relevant now that we’re lying naked in bed together the day after I’ve voiced them, are they?”

Harry paused. “You’re alright with the things we’ve done though, yeah?”

“Of course I am, Harry,” Draco said truthfully, rubbing Harry’s stomach in reassurance. “I have no regrets about anything at all from the moment I responded to your letter, in fact.”

Harry paused again. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

“Yes, well, it happens on occasion.”

“Never used to, though,” Harry said tauntingly, squeezing his arm.

“Fuck off, Potter,” Draco replied with a smirk. 

Harry didn’t respond to that, but a moment later, he nudged Draco slightly away from him and rolled to his side so that they were facing each other, with only inches between them. Draco’s heart started to race as soon as he looked into Harry’s bright green eyes. He felt himself smiling again; he’d given up trying to fight that particular impulse several hours ago. Lucky for Draco, Harry was always smiling back at him.

“Hello, boyfriend,” Harry murmured, leaning his face forward and resting his forehead on Draco’s. 

Draco giggled. “Hello.”

“That giggle. It makes me feel things.”

“Things?”

“Things.”

“Eloquent,” Draco laughed. 

“You really are a prat, Malfoy,” Harry said, laughing along. 

“And you are easily the handsomest man I’ve ever seen.”

Draco lifted a hand and brushed it along the stubble on Harry’s chin. 

“Do you think so?” Harry asked, closing his eyes with a smile. 

“I do.”

Harry closed the short distance between them and kissed Draco slowly. They took their time with the kiss, exploring and savoring each other. 

Draco broke away first, and when he opened his eyes, Harry’s stayed closed. Draco loved it when he did that. 

He leaned forward and kissed Harry’s eyelids, then his nose, then his lips one more time. Draco just wanted to kiss Harry until they both faded away to nothing. He tilted his head up and slowly kissed Harry’s lightning bolt scar, light as a feather, three times. When he pulled back again, Harry’s eyes remained closed, but the smile on his face was blissful. 

“Have I put you to sleep?” Draco whispered. 

“Yes.”

Draco smiled and stroked his cheek. “My sweet Harry.”

“Mmm,” was his answer.

Finally Harry opened his eyes. “Hey, we’re exclusive, right?”

“What do you think, you imbecile?” Draco said, rolling his eyes fondly.

“I think we never really specified,” Harry said, shrugging.

“Is that what you want?” Draco knew the answer already, but he was still a little bit nervous to hear Harry’s response.

“Yes,” Harry said immediately. “Obviously. I don’t want anyone touching you ever again, actually.”

“You really are a jealous man, Harry,” Draco said, thrilled by Harry’s words.

“I know,” Harry agreed. “It’s not the only fault you’ll find in me, either.”

“I don’t think it’s a fault, per se.”

“You might think differently if it’s ever tested in real life.”

“Perhaps,” Draco ceded, suddenly inspired. “Oh, shall we test it now?”

“How…?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“I’ve just remembered something from Hogwarts that you’re going to love,” Draco said, grinning devilishly. “I fancied Victor Krum.”

“You did not,” Harry snorted. 

“I did!” Draco said honestly. “Fit, dark quidditch player? Popular? Muscular? He was precisely my type.”

“Are you just saying this to annoy me?” Harry asked dubiously.

“I promise you, I fancied him.” Draco watched Harry’s face, gleefully observing a slight irritation on it already.

“He was an idiot,” Harry muttered.

“He was gorgeous,” Draco said.

“Okay, you’ve proven your point,” Harry grumbled, tightening his grip on Draco’s arm. 

“This is a fun game,” Draco giggled. 

“Yes, a downright riot.”

Draco sat up and pushed Harry onto his back so that Draco was straddling Harry’s hips. He placed his hands on Harry’s chest and Harry automatically reached up and laced their fingers together. He could tell Harry was trying to look annoyed. Draco was happy to see that he was failing.

“Yes,” Draco said with a smile. “Let’s be exclusive.”

Harry’s answering smile was pure sunshine. He reached up and ran his hand through Draco’s hair. 

“I fancy you,” Harry said softly. 

Draco melted into Harry’s green eyes and sighed. “I love you.”

He hadn’t even realized he was saying it until it was already out, but he couldn’t take it back now. He didn’t even  _ want _ to take it back, because it was the truest thing he’d ever said. Nonetheless, nerves clenched at him tightly as he looked down at Harry, searching for a reaction. But oh, the look Harry gave him. All the fear flew out of him in an instant. 

“You love me?” Harry whispered. 

“Well, I wasn’t planning on saying it just then,” Draco admitted. “And surely you knew it already.”

“Draco,” Harry breathed out. 

“Yes, Harry,” Draco whispered. “I love you.”

Harry closed his eyes for several seconds, and when he opened them again, his face was pure happiness. “I love you, too.”

Every ounce of reason that Draco possessed shouted at him that this was too soon, that surely two long-time enemies could not become lovers in less than a day. But when Harry sat up and kissed him, the crystal-clear whisper of his heart chased every shouted thought from his head. And his heart was whispering that this would work out just fine. This would work out, for the rest of their lives.

He knew his heart was right.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again and again for taking the time to read this story. I sincerely hope that it brought you some joy and that the aggressive fluff was exactly what you wanted/needed right now. I am so, so grateful to you for reading my words. :)
> 
> I must also take a moment here to dedicate this sequel to every person who commented on the original story. You cannot possibly know how encouraging, uplifting, and affirming your words were for me. It’s heartwarming to know that there are people out there kind enough to say such incredibly thoughtful things to a perfect stranger on the internet. I am so grateful, and I appreciate you so much more than I can express. Friends, this fluff’s for you. ✨✨✨
> 
> Thank you once more for reading this; you are so appreciated. :)


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